"I found it! I found the cave!"
Bilbo followed Thorin as he hurried in the direction of Bofur's voice. With every other step, he winced; there was a deep, dull ache in his shoulder that became a sharp, stinging pain whenever he stepped too hard with his right foot. In an attempt to keep the pain to a minimum, he held his arm against his chest and did his best to limit its movement.
Soon enough, the two were standing beside Bofur in front of the entrance to a cave. Bilbo's nose scrunched up in disgust. There was a putrid smell coming from the entrance and he could see a mixture of bones and half-decayed animal carcasses hanging from the roof of the cave.
"Ugh…I don't suppose those trolls knew anything about proper housekeeping," he murmured, using his right arm to wave the scent away from his nose.
Bofur laughed. "Now whoever heard o' a troll who kept a clean cave?" He glanced over as he saw Nori, Gloin, Gandalf, and—surprisingly—Dwalin approaching.
"What is that stench?" Nori gagged, pinching his nose shut.
Gandalf glanced down at him. "This is a troll hoard…be careful where you step and what you touch." He entered the cave first, thankful that the ceiling was high enough that his hat didn't touch it.
Thorin followed next with Bilbo following after him. The hobbit pulled a handkerchief (stolen from Baylee) from his pocket and covered his mouth and nose with it. Looking around, he could see all sorts of items stacked against the walls: Barrels of alcohol, crates filled with clothes, coins littering the floor…It seemed that the trolls rather enjoyed taking and stashing away their victims' belongings.
Seeing a torch, Thorin grabbed it. "Ah, good…We could use some light." He held it out to Gandalf, who, using a bit of magic, set it aflame.
The further they got into the cave, the less horrible the smell got and the more precious the hoard became. Bits of armor and various weapons were piled up in a corner, entirely covered by cobwebs. Coins and jewelry were piled against the base of the wall, also covered in years' worth of dirt and grime (at least, Bilbo hoped it was dirt). Bofur, Nori, and Gloin were instantly drawn in by the monetary treasure and they began to gather it up into a small chest while Dwalin stood by, his arms crossed over his chest and an annoyed look on his face.
"These swords were not made by any troll." Thorin's voice drew Bilbo's attention back to the end of the cave.
Gandalf took the sword that Thorin offered him. "Nor were they made by any smith among men." He drew the blade from its sheath a few inches, his eyes widening slightly. "These were forged in Gondolin…by the high elves of the First Age." Bilbo's brow rose slightly as he saw Thorin start to put his sword back; Gandalf, too, saw it. "You could not wish for a finer blade!" he scolded, sheathing the sword.
Stepping forward, Bilbo started to curiously sort through the weapons. Many of them were swords that were almost as long as he was tall. There were a few bows as well, though they didn't seem to be in as good of condition as the swords. He also found a pair of shields, though both of them were far taller than him.
'Shame,' he thought. 'Baylee and I could use some shields, since we're not fighters…Though, I suppose we could both hide behind one of these large things.'
Grumbling to himself, Thorin copied the wizard and drew the blade out a few inches. It was hard to read his expression, especially when only half his face was lit by the torch, but it seemed that he was satisfied with the sword's quality. He sheathed it once more and turned away from the rest of the weapons. "Let's get out of this foul place," he said to the two of them. Walking past them, he didn't even glance down at the others, who had buried the chest in the ground. "Come on, let's go. Bofur! Gloin! Nori!"
Bilbo watched as they scrambled to their feet and followed after Thorin. Stepping out into the sunlight once more, he blinked against the sun's brightness. He was about to follow the dwarves further away from the entrance, where the air was better, when he heard his name.
"Bilbo." Turning, he saw Gandalf walking towards him. "Here. This is about your size." He held out what, to the hobbit, looked like a short sword. To non-hobbits, it was little more than a knife, however.
His brows furrowed. "I can't take this," he told the wizard. He didn't want to take it, either—he wasn't a warrior. He didn't even know how to use a sword; Nori had been teaching him how to use a pair of knives.
"The blade is of Elvish make," the wizard told him, ignoring his words for now, "which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby."
"But I've never used a sword in my life," he protested.
"And I hope you never have to." He placed the weapon in Bilbo's hands. "But if you do, remember this: True courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one." He set his hand on the hobbit's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze before walking away.
Just as Thorin and Gandalf had done, Bilbo unsheathed the sword. The blade looked as if it had just been polished; he could see himself in it like a mirror. Etched into the steel were a set of elvish runes, but what they said, he hadn't the slightest idea. Despite being a weapon, he found it quite lovely to look at.
'If I survive this adventure, it would look quite nice on my bedroom wall,' he thought, sliding it back into the scabbard. Wiping off the cobwebs, he then wrapped the belt around his waist—a painful task thanks to his injured shoulder. He then moved to join the others, who were starting to make their way back in the direction of the farmhouse.
Halfway to the farmhouse, however, they were greeted by the rest of the company gathered around the foot of a craggy wall. They wore grim looks and, resting on the ground, was everyone's packs.
"The ponies bolted," Fili said when they approached. "When the trolls stole the first four last night, they left a big hole in the pen's fence. Baylee said that she had tried to look for them when it was still dark, but there wasn't any sign of them. We looked again and there was still no sign."
At the mention of his daughter, Bilbo looked around for her. He started to panic when he didn't find her right away, but when Oin moved forward to speak with his brother, he found that she had been standing behind him. A relieved sigh left his mouth and he hurried over to her.
"Da'!" She smiled up at him as he came over and returned the hug he gave her. "How was the cave? Did you find anything interesting?"
"Never mind that for now," he said. "What did Oin say about your eye?" He leaned back and looked down at her to see a bandage wrapped around her head.
Her smile faltered and she swallowed hard. "…He—he said there's a good chance I won't get my sight back," she told him, her voice quiet. "…He might even have to remove it if worse comes to worst."
His eyes widened in horror. "Wh-what?!" he cried. "Why?! It didn't look that badly injured when I saw it! It looked rather bad, yes, I'll admit that, but not enough to warrant going blind!"
"He said that the front of my eye was scratched up fairly bad," she explained. "The blood will go away after a few days, but the scratches are deep and there's not much he can do with the supplies he has." She buried her face in his uninjured shoulder. "And the area around it is going to have some ugly scars."
Closing his eyes, he held her close. "My poor girl," he murmured, his hand resting on the back of her head. He felt like this was all his fault; if he had just been firmer with her and made her stay home, contract or not, this would have never happened. "I'm sorry."
"It could be worse," she mumbled, voice a bit muffled by his shoulder. "He could have had to remove it…With how painful it was to just rinse it, I don't want to imagine how bad that would have been."
He cringed at the thought. "I suppose that's one way to make a grim situation seem less so," he sighed. Kissing the top of her head, he looked over at the others. They all wore somber expressions as they discussed what to do now that they had no ponies.
Baylee frowned, tilting her head slightly. In the distance, she could hear a strange noise—like something heavy being dragged quite fast across the forest floor. "Da'…do you hear that?" she asked.
He cocked his head, listening to the sounds around them. Hearing the dragging sound, too, his brows furrowed. "It's getting closer…Oh no—" Turning towards the others, he called out, "Something's coming this way!"
"And it sounds big!" Baylee added.
Bilbo ushered his daughter forward, not wanting her at the front of the line should some sort of fight break out. As they moved, Bilbo glanced over at Thorin as he drew his new sword; it didn't glow blue. Thinking, perhaps, it was just his sword that would glow blue if there were orcs around, he checked his.
It also wasn't glowing.
Seeing him check the sword, Baylee's brows rose in surprise; of all things she thought she would see her father wearing, a sword was not one of them. "Did you find that in the troll cave, da'?" she asked, drawing him from his thoughts.
"Hm? Oh, y-yes. Well, actually, Gandalf did." Swallowing hard, he gently pushed her behind him. "Stay back there, dear.
This time, she did listen to him. As she heard the dragging getting even closer, she pressed herself against the rocky wall of the crag, crouching down slightly to make herself even less obvious. Her heart started to race again and she bit her lower lip.
'Yavanna, please don't be something we have to fight,' she thought. 'Please…'
It seemed that luck was on their side—for now. What came barreling out of the underbrush wasn't some monstrous creature, but rather, an old man on a sledge drawn by at least eight huge rabbits. Seeing the group, he brought the rabbits to a halt.
"Radagast!" Gandalf cried, a mixture of surprise and relief in his voice. "Radagast the Brown, what on earth are you doing here?!"
"I was looking for you, Gandalf," the other wizard replied, speaking quickly. As he hopped off his sledge, he grabbed Gandalf's arm and led him aside.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Baylee stood upright and stepped away from the wall. She looked over at her father in time to see him flinch as he sheathed his sword and she frowned. "Da', you need to have Oin look at your shoulder," she told him, her voice firm.
"Even if there was something wrong aside from a bit of bruising, there's not much he could do, dear," he told her.
"He could, at the very least, fashion you a sling." Her lips were pursed somewhat and she had her hands on her hips as if she were scolding a child. "You shouldn't be moving that arm much. Especially with how bad it's making you flinch like that."
Bilbo found himself unable to keep a straight face; he hadn't seen her try to scold him like this in a long while. "Baylee, dear, I'm not a child. Scolding me like that isn't going to make my shoulder any less injured."
"No, but having it in a sling, at the very least, will help it become less injured." Shaking her head, she let out a heavy sigh. "Please, da'? I know you don't like being fussed over, but I'm going to keep fussing—"
From somewhere in the distance, an eerie howl broke through the still air. Everyone went quiet for a few seconds, hearing more howls answer.
"W-Was that a wolf?" Bilbo stammered. "Are—are there wolves out there?"
Bofur quickly shook his head, his eyes wide in fear. "Wolves? No, that is no wolf."
Baylee frowned. "If it's not a wolf, then that means—" She spun around as she heard a crack only to let out a small cry as she saw a massive, snarling creature racing down the hill towards them. Grabbing Bilbo, she pulled him back against the wall just in time to avoid being hit by the warg.
Dori, however, wasn't so lucky. Trapped under the warg, he barely had time to react as the massive, snarling jaws came rushing towards his head. Thorin jumped forward, drawing his elvish sword. He slammed the blade into the creature's neck with a sickening crunch, killing it instantly—and before it could harm Dori.
An arrow flew past Thorin and he looked over his shoulder to see a second warg come tumbling down the hill at them. When it hit the bottom, it got to its feet only to be promptly knocked back down as Dwalin brought his hammer down on its skull. He had hit it hard enough that shards of shattered bone had torn through the skin.
"Warg-scouts!" Thorin called out, wrenching the sword from the first warg's neck. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind." He was about to help Dori push the corpse away, but Dori managed it on his own.
"Orc pack!?" Bilbo squeaked.
Gandalf hurried over. "Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" he demanded.
"No one," Thorin replied.
"Who did you tell!?" Gandalf demanded again, his voice more urgent.
"No one, I swear!" Thorin snapped. "What in Durin's name is going on!?"
A grim look came to the grey wizard's face. "You are being hunted."
"We have t' get out of here!" Dwalin cried.
"But we can't! We have no ponies, remember?" Ori replied, his voice more like a whimper.
Radagast stepped forward, a determined look on his face. "I'll draw them off," he told the group.
Gandalf looked at him in horror and disbelief. "These are Gundabad wargs!" he said. "They'll outrun you!"
A challenging smirk came to the brown wizard's lips. "These are Rhosgobel rabbits," he retorted. "I'd like to see them try."
Within half an hour, the company found themselves hiding behind a large rock at the edge of the forest. Just on the other side, they could hear the barking and snarling of wargs and the foul language of their orcish riders. Also on the other side of the boulder lay a wide, rocky plain. It was perfect terrain for the warg riders and horrible for the company.
There was suddenly a loud, merry laugh and the group knew that Radagast and his rabbits had just run past. Peeking out from their hiding spot, Gandalf watched as the group of fifteen or so wargs and riders took chase after his friend, none of them remaining behind. When they were far enough away, he motioned for the company to follow him.
No one in the company could ever remember running so much for so long in their lives, let alone running with so much stuff on their backs. Gandalf led them across the plain, pausing only once in a while to take a moment's shelter behind a boulder. But they didn't have time to catch their breath before they were off again.
The whole while, Radagast was leading the warg pack around the plains, trying to both wear them out and keep them from finding the company's trail.
More than once, Baylee found herself stumbling. She wasn't sure if it was because of exhaustion or the uneven ground, but she was thankful that she caught herself before she could fall—especially since, like the others, she held a weapon (if Bombur's cleaver even counted as such) at the ready should they be found and attacked.
The next time they came to a stop, though, she nearly toppled to the ground. Her lungs burned and she was breathing so hard, her mouth had gone completely dry. Every part of her hurt; as she glanced at the others, she could tell that they were feeling much the same.
Someone patted her on the shoulder. Looking up, she found that it was Fili. Unable to speak due to his panting, he gave her a small, concerned head tilt. Also unable to talk, she merely gave him a small nod.
"Come on! Quick!" Gandalf ordered and, once again, they were off.
As she ran, Baylee tried to keep track of where the pack was. In the distance, the company could both see and hear the pack as they chased Radagast. More than once, it looked like the wargs were getting closer to them, but the wizard would lead them away again.
'If I survive this,' she thought, 'Prim and Halfast aren't going to believe me when I tell them about it.'
The rock formations around them started to become fewer and far between now. Ahead of them, they could see trees growing and the ground had less rock formations. It would provide little in the way of cover, but the ground would be easier to traverse.
For both the company and the wargs.
It was Thorin who brought them to a halt this time. Taking shelter behind the last, large set of rocks, the company struggled to catch their breath. Above them, they suddenly heard the scratching of claws on rock and grunting.
All at once, the group forced themselves to quiet their breathing.
Baylee watched as Kili drew an arrow from his quiver. He got it ready to fire before taking a few seconds to steady his breathing even further. Stepping away from the boulder, he took aim and fired. He quickly drew a second arrow, firing it into the orc.
The warg and its rider came tumbling down the side of the rock and landed on the ground, but neither was dead. Baylee felt herself freeze up as the orc started to get to its feet just a few yards from her; it was far uglier than she could have ever imagined, with mottled grey skin and a wide, flat face. Its mouth was filled with sharp teeth that looked like they could bite through solid bone.
Beside it, the warg was growling and snarling as it struggled to its feet; one of its legs had been broken in the fall. It was quickly knocked back down as Bifur lunged at it with his spear. Bofur joined in, bashing it with his mattock.
Dwalin hit the orc with his hammer, sending it flying forward. It landed on its face just feet from Baylee.
'Don't just stand there! Go for its tendons, you useless thing!' her mind shouted.
Forcing herself to take the opportunity, Baylee darted forward. Gripping onto the cleaver for dear life, she brought it down on the back of the orc's knee with a good deal of force—at least, a good deal for a hobbit of her size. Being that Bombur was very good about keeping his cooking knives sharpened, the cleaver cut through muscle and tendon with great ease; it even sank into the bone a little bit.
The creature howled in pain and, as it started to thrash, Baylee yanked the knife out only to bring it down again. This time, however, she brought it down on the back of its thigh. Beside her, Dwalin brought his hammer down again on the orc's back, but despite the disgusting crunch it made, the orc continued to thrash. Lifting his hammer yet again, he brought it down on the orc's head.
Baylee looked away just in time to avoid the gruesome sight.
Knowing their position had been compromised, Gandalf called out for them to start running again. With a renewed sense of vigor, the company took off. They ran hundreds and hundreds of yards, praying that they would be able to find some form of safety in the tree cover. The barking and snarling of the wargs was getting closer and closer by the minute.
At first, the sounds came from only one direction, but as the company reached the tree line, the sounds started to spread out. Soon, they could hear snarling coming from every direction.
"There they are!" Gloin called out, panic in his voice.
"This way! Quickly" Gandalf shouted, leading the group towards a more open part of the field.
They hadn't run much further—only a couple dozen yards—when they realized that their luck had run out. More and more wargs were coming from seemingly nowhere.
"There's more coming!" Kili shouted, drawing an arrow.
"Kili!" Thorin called out. "Shoot them!"
"We're surrounded!" Fill cried.
Their lungs burning, Bilbo and Baylee ran towards the defensive circle the dwarves were forming. They were almost there when Baylee let out a squeak and tumbled forward, the cleaver flying from her hand. Through all the commotion around them, Bilbo didn't hear her and was left unaware that he was very quickly leaving his daughter behind.
Thinking some extremely unladylike words, Baylee groaned and started to push herself upright. As she did such, she glanced over her shoulder only to start saying the unladylike words out loud.
There was a warg less than fifty yards from her.
Scrambling to her feet, she started to run towards the others, who were now gathered around a set of boulders. Thorin stood atop one of the smaller rocks, his elven sword in one hand while the other helped the company, one by one, disappear behind the stones.
"Mouse-Lass! Kili!" he shouted. "Hurry!"
She tried to push her legs to go faster, but they wouldn't listen. Behind her, she could hear the thumping of the warg's paws every time they hit the ground. A cry left her mouth as her foot caught something and she was once more sent falling forward.
But it was fortuitous that she had fallen: Right at that moment, the warg had leapt forward, intending on making her its snack. Instead, though, it slammed into the rock near Thorin and quickly got a blade to the brain.
Baylee tried to get up again only to stumble forward onto her knees. It was then she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and easily lift her up. She didn't have time to see if it was Kili or Thorin who held her as he ran forward and hopped over the rock. On the other side was a steep, smooth rock wall that they were now sliding down. When they hit bottom, the two found themselves in a well-hidden tunnel; Baylee glanced over and saw that it had been Thorin who had grabbed her.
"Th-thank you," she wheezed.
His reply came in the form of a small nod as he gently pushed her onto her feet before getting to his own.
Above them, a strange horn blasted shortly followed by pained yelps and growls. Thorin and Baylee moved away from the base of the wall just in time to avoid being hit by an orc's corpse as it came rolling down, an arrow in its throat.
Bilbo pulled his daughter to him, hugging onto her tightly. Still breathing heavily from all the running, he couldn't say anything. If he could speak, however, it would have probably resulted in may curse words being said due to the intense, fiery pain in his shoulder.
After many minutes of regaining their lost breath, the company began to stir. Though their limbs were as heavy as lead, they got back to their feet and started trying to somewhat stretch to keep their muscles from seizing up.
Venturing further into the tunnel, Dwalin came to a halt some yards away. "I cannot see where the pathway leads," he called back. "Do we follow it or no?"
"Follow it, of course!" Bofur desperately replied. Without another word, he hurried after Dwalin and was quickly followed by the others.
The tunnel, it turns out, was long and narrow. At some points, Bombur had to be pushed through by those who followed behind him—and that was with sucking in his gut. Eventually, though, walls grew farther and farther apart until they parted completely to reveal a wide, open ledge. The group came to a halt on the cliff and, as Gandalf and the hobbits came closer, they could hear the dwarves making quiet sounds of awe; when she and Bilbo stepped out of the tunnel, Baylee could see why.
Before them lay a beautiful valley filled with evergreen trees and waterfalls. At the far end of the valley, built across the tops of a handful of the falls, were elegant buildings and bridges. From where they stood, it looked as if the buildings had been shaped from the very stone they sat upon.
"Wait 'til Prim and Halfast hear about this," Baylee murmured, her eye wide.
"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf state as he looked out over the sight. "In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name."
"Rivendell," Bilbo breathed, his eyes wide in wonder and a large smile on his lips. He had always loved elves and elvish things, so to find himself about to seek refuge in an elven town was a dream come true.
The wizard nodded slowly. "Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea," he told the group.
"This was your plan all along," Thorin quietly hissed. "To see refuge with our enemy."
Baylee frowned and turned her head slightly. She had never heard of elves being the enemies of anyone except the forces of evil.
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf scolded. "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."
"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin countered. "They will try to stop us."
"Of course they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect—and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me."
Thorin made a quiet noise of distaste, but argued no further. Instead, he brushed past the wizard and hobbits, moving to lead the company along the cliff.
While walking along the path, Bilbo looked back at Baylee. "Isn't it beautiful, dear?" he asked her. "I've always wondered what elvish architecture looks like and now I'll get to find out!" He chuckled, shifting his pack on his shoulders slightly only to wince. Grabbing his left shoulder, he started to gently knead it. "Isn't it just amazing how everything looks like it was shaped from the land itself?"
She quietly chuckled, glad to see her father so happy after such a harrowing ordeal. "To be honest, da', I'm more interested in how soft elvish beds are," she said, earning a few chuckles. "And whether or not they can help that shoulder of yours." Her whole body ached and her head was heavy; she hadn't gotten any rest since her nap the night before and, with the adrenaline leaving her body, the exhaustion was beginning to catch up to her. "…And maybe what elvish food is like."
Frowning, Bilbo looked back at her once more. "That's right…you didn't get any dinner last night, did you?"
"No. Just a bite of jerky and a stolen spoonful of soup." At the mention of jerky, though, she unslung her pack and started to root through it. A small grin came to her lips when she saw that she still had her bag of jerky. She opened it and pulled out a few pieces, popping one into her mouth while the rest went into her pocket. After putting her pack back on, she offered one of the pieces to her father.
"Thank you, dear," he said, taking the offered piece. "How're you feeling?" He wished that she could walk alongside him, but there wasn't much room on the path.
"Like I could sleep for three days," she admitted with a chuckle. "I don't think I've ever run so much in my life."
"Neither do I," he agreed, "and that includes chasing after you once you learned how to walk." He used his teeth to tear a bite from the jerky. "I'm surprised we were both able to keep up with the others…though, I did notice that you were stumbling a lot." A small frown had come to his face.
She shrugged, thinking nothing of it. "What do you expect? The ground was uneven and covered in rocks. I don't know how any of you managed to not trip or stumble." She took another bite of her jerky before lightly tapping the part of her cheek covered by the bandage. It was beginning to itch and, knowing better than to rub it, she knew tapping would be the next best option.
It took just under an hour to reach Rivendell. It was an easy journey, being mostly downhill with smooth ground and no one chasing after them. The weary dwarves and hobbits were more than a little thankful for this. As they crossed a bridge over one of the many waterfalls, they couldn't help but look around in awe, as everything looked even more beautiful up close—at least, the hobbits found it beautiful. The dwarves, while impressed by the stonework and the construction of the place, didn't find the aesthetics to be anything close to their liking.
Coming to a wide terrace, they were met by a single elf, who brought a smile to Gandalf's face. "Mithrandir," he said as the wizard approached.
"Ah, Lindir!" Leaving the others behind, he stepped forward to speak with him. As he did so, Baylee stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to get a better look at the elf, but the princes were blocking her view.
"This place is too…too flowery," Baylee heard Fili quietly tell Kili. "I appreciate plants as much as the next dwarrow, but this…This looks like too much."
"I don't know. I don't think it looks too bad," Kili admitted. "It'd be nicer if there was more stonework, sure, but I don't find it too bad." He glanced down, seeing the hobbit lass behind them. Chuckling, he stepped aside so she could move forward. "Here you go, Baylee. Now you don't have to wear those toes of yours out."
Her cheeks turned pink, but she gave him a small smile. "Thank you."
But before she could move, the still air was once again broken by the blasting of a horn—the same one from earlier, as a matter of fact. The sound of beating hooves was also heard and, as they turned around, the company could see a group of armed horsemen galloping towards them. Thorin called out something—what, neither Baylee nor Bilbo knew—and the dwarves started to press together in a tight circle.
Soon, the riders had them surrounded, though they made no effort to attack. In fact, they didn't even pay much attention to the dwarves and hobbits. One of them, however, rode his horse a bit further from the group and more towards the wizard.
"Gandalf," he said, a broad smile coming to his lips.
Gandalf bowed, a smile on his lips as well. "Lord Elrond!" As the elf dismounted, he spoke with him in a language that the Bagginses had heard a few times before: Elvish. Neither could understand the words spoken, but they rather enjoyed listening to them.
"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond said, finally speaking in the Common Tongue. "Something—or someone—has drawn them near." As he spoke, he held up sword that had belonged to one of the warg riders and handed it off to Lindir.
"Ah, yes, that may have been us," Gandalf admitted, his tone bearing a hint of guilt. He glanced over as Thorin stepped forward.
"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," Elrond said to the dwarf. He wore a pleasant smile, though, to Baylee, it didn't seem like it entirely reached his eyes.
"I do not believe we've met," Thorin replied, some coldness to his voice.
"You have your grandfather's bearing," explained Elrond. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."
"Indeed? He made no mention of you." His replay made Baylee's eyes widened a bit; if she had said such a thing, Bilbo would have flicked her ear and proceeded to give her the scolding of a lifetime.
Elrond, however, was not Bilbo and paid little attention to the insult. Instead, he turned towards Lindir and said something to him in elvish. This annoyed Gloin, who was tired of not being able to understand what was being said.
"What is he saying?" he demanded. "Does he off us insult?!"
Gandalf, sounding more than a little exasperated at this point, replied with, "No, Master Gloin. He is offering you food." He was thankful to see the dwarves ease up at this prospect.
"Ah, well…" Gloin murmured, looking quite embarrassed, "in that case, lead on!"